


FFxivWrite2019 Collection

by CognitiveAnxiety



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Allagan shenanigans, FFxivWrite2019, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Lots of backstory, Not In Chronological Order, Slice of Life, Spoilers, Studium shenanigans, adventuring life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-05 20:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20494862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CognitiveAnxiety/pseuds/CognitiveAnxiety
Summary: Prompts for FFXIV Write 2019 set up by @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast on Tumblr.Featuring alts Kyrean Reed, Greleita Hyrtstyrmwyn, and Vei Marjhara, as well as a few Scions, mostly the twins. Spans from long before the Calamity to the end of Shadowbringers. Not in any sort of chronological order.





	1. Summaries

**Author's Note:**

> So I have no idea how many of these I'll manage, but here we go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is just a list of short summaries of each chapter.

1\. Voracious: In which Alisaie learns something unexpected about the adventuring life.  
2\. Bargain: In which Greleita Hyrtstyrmwyn reconsiders her career choice.  
3\. Lost: In which Vei Marjhara finds someone who wasn’t lost, and retrieves something that was.  
4\. Shifting Blame: In which Alphinaud is definitely not afraid of falling overboard.  
5\. Vault: In which Kyrean Reed finds a broom closet.  
6\. First Steps: In which Vei makes a big change.  
7\. Forgiven: In which the Warrior of Light/Darkness makes the only choice they can.  
8\. Hesitate: In which Alisaie could actually get to like this whole fencing thing.  
9\. Foster: In which Greleita takes a break.  
10\. Snuff: In which Kyrean opens the mail.  
11\. Wax: In which, contrary to all expectations, the Red Moon does not actually hit Eorzea.  



	2. Voracious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alisaie learns something unexpected about the adventuring life.
> 
> First one is pretty simple. This is from an A/U where the three city-state representatives to the Remembrance Ceremonies have adopted the twins, adventurer-style. Takes place after Sastasha.

Alisaie watched bemusedly as Vei delicately pulled the last bit of flesh from the grilled carp before tossing the skewer onto a plate with several similarly-devoured fish. Upon being seated at the Bismark, the Miqo’te had glanced at the menu, pointed at the section for grilled fish-on-a-stick, and ordered one of each. She’d eaten her way through more than half of them, and showed no sign of stopping.

The other two adventurers were making their way through their own piles of food; Greleita on her second eel pie, and Kyrean steadily working her way through a plate that had been piled high with roasted vegetables and filets of baked fish.

It was… an aspect of adventuring that Alisaie hadn’t given thought to before today, but the more she considered it, the more she realized that it should have come as no surprise; between the physical activity and strain of using so much aether, any adventurer was bound to work up a truly monumental appetite.

_ And not just adventurers, it would seem,_ she thought, glancing out of the corner of her eye at her brother, who was practically inhaling his serving of seafood stew. Understandable, she supposed. The pirates hiding out in Sastasha Seagrot hadn’t given up without a fight, and both she and her brother had used more energy over the course of a day than they had during the entirety of their long voyage from Sharlayan.

It had been oddly freeing, to seek out a band of raiders (and cultists, as they had eventually discovered) and simply… solve the problem. She had been skeptical at first, of the role adventurers played in Eorzean society. Was Eorzea truly beset by such unrest that the Grand Companies weren’t enough? That contracting out to civilians was seen not only as necessary, but a viable and potentially lucrative career choice for hundreds of people in each city-state?

And so she had doubted. But after seeing the faces of the freed captives, and hearing the gratitude of the merchants whose caravans would no longer be attacked by that particular band of raiders, she was beginning to see the necessity of it all.

And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to whatever adventure her new friends would be dragging her brother and her on in Gridania, as they waited for the next Remembrance Ceremony.

_One thing is quite certain_, she thought as the waiter brought her a second serving of baked sole. _Our time in Eorzea will be nothing if not interesting._


	3. Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greleita Hyrtstyrmwyn reconsiders her career choice.
> 
> Takes place before A Realm Reborn.

Greleita was miserable. 

The setting sun beat down on her, not seeming to lose any of its heat even at this time of day. Greleita shrugged herself deeper into the cloak she’d managed to fish out of the sea, wishing that she had the means to fashion it into something more useful. A sail, preferably. Not that there was currently a hint of a breeze; even if she somehow managed to rig a sail, her little chunk of debris would remain at the mercy of the currents

Speaking of currents… Greleita peeked out from beneath her hood, but saw nothing but ocean. Again. She was reasonably certain that she was caught in a current, but right now she had no real way of telling which one. If luck was with her, she’d wash up in Eorzea; if not, her corpse would wash ashore on the island of Thavnair weeks from now.

She sighed. She’d known that piracy was dangerous, had grown up knowing. But the crew that had raised her had turned privateer for the Admiral when traditional piracy was outlawed, and besides, where else did she have to go? And so she’d stayed on, earning a living preying on anything waving a Garlean flag. It had been a decent way to live, exciting and lucrative in equal measure, though much of the crew had remained bitter about the Admiral’s decree.

Their most recent job had been a big one, a military vessel stocked with Garlean weaponry. They’d still been celebrating in anticipation of the reward when the storm had struck, turning a calm sea into a tempest in a matter of half an hour. As it turned out, a cargo hold full of heavy magitek armaments wasn’t conducive to safely riding out a storm.

The levin bolt that had taken their mast hadn’t helped.

It had been chaos after that, as the crew frantically tried to find a way to save their ship. When that had proven a lost cause, they’d abandoned ship. And still the storm was not sated. Greleita’s lifeboat had capsized, spilling its occupants. Eventually she’d managed to find a piece of drifting debris to cling to. She had no idea how the rest of her crewmates fared.

Greleita started, and realized she’d been dozing. She shook her head. She really needed to stay awake, see if she could figure out anything about which direction she was heading once the stars came out.

Feeling more than a bit sorry for herself, Greleita struggled into a sitting position. That done, took a deep breath, feeling inordinately proud of herself for managing to not capsize the piece of… deck, she thought, judging by the gouge there that looked to be from where one of the cannons had sat… that was all she currently had between her and the sea.

“Llymlaen, Nymeia, any of you that might be listening,” she murmured as the reds of sunset began to give way to twilight. “Please, give me something. An oar, a breeze, a pair of dry socks, even!” She pushed back her hood and sighed. “Look, if you get me out of this, I’ll… I’ll give up the piracy, the privateering, all of it. I’ll take up adventuring, or fishing, or cooking, if that’s what you want.”

Despite her plea, the gods remained silent as twilight deepened to night, bringing with it a star-strewn sky and, eventually, sleep.

Greleita came to with a face full of sand. Blearily, she opened her eyes to a smudge of crimson that eventually resolved itself into a miqo’te, hand extended and… was that a healing spell? Greleita blinked. Definitely a healing spell. Wait. Sand. The sound of waves on the shore. A (hopefully) well-meaning stranger.

She sat up, spitting sand, and set grateful eyes on land. The shore she’d washed up on was plain, studded with rocks and washed-up debris, but at that moment it was the most beautiful thing Greleita had ever seen.

“I’m glad to see you awaken.” The voice brought Greleita back to the present. “I was beginning to fear the ocean would have you in the end.”

The automatic reply was on her lips - _the sea will have us all in the end_ \- when she thought better of it. “My thanks,” she rasped instead. “I would not have wanted her to have me today.”

“But another day might suit you better?” he asked, amusement in his eyes. “Here,” he said, holding out a water skin. 

As Greleita drank her fill, she studied her apparent rescuer. The crimson blur had resolved into a fine coat and breeches, topped with a hat that would make any captain proud. A seafarer? Perhaps. She wasn’t certain it even mattered, now. The gods had, it seemed, answered her plea, and whatever crew this man might belong to, it wouldn’t be hers.

“I’m X’rhun Tia,” he offered as she handed back the (mostly empty) skin. “A simple traveller.”

_Simple my ass,_ Greleita thought, noticing the exquisite rapier slung at his hip. “Greleita,” she replied, considering. “And, I guess I’m…” She paused, remembering the bargain she’d struck with the gods the previous evening. Would the Twelve hold her to it? Did she want to risk it? She frowned, recalling the options she’d given herself. “An adventurer, I suppose,” she said finally.

X’rhun smiled. “Are you?” He asked, delighted. “Then it would seem we have much to discuss.”

Greleita raised a dubious eyebrow, and then shrugged. “If you’ve got some food around here, I’ll listen to whatever pitch you want to make.”

His smile became a laugh. “It’s a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is how Greleita meets X’rhun Tia, who will go on to teach her the fundamentals of being a Red Mage.


	4. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vei Marjhara finds someone who wasn’t lost, and retrieves something that was.
> 
> Takes place maybe a few years before the Calamity, when Vei is still in her early teens and entirely too serious for her own good.

She’d lost him.

“Dammit Zhem,” Vei muttered as she pushed aside a branch. “Where in all the seven hells did you go this time?”

A squirrel chittered at her from a nearby branch, and Vei glared at it out of the corner of her eye. “Not helping,” she said sourly.

It churred, entirely unconcerned. 

Vei sighed and continued on her way, keeping an eye out for any of the signs her brother was _supposed_ to have left to lead her to him. It was a common game between them, laying trails and tracking each other, practicing their hunting and survival skills. They’d been doing this less frequently in the last year, since Zhemi’a had enough years to take on some of the hunting duties for her family, and he had seemed particularly excited about today’s game.

_Excited enough that he forgot to leave a trail, apparently._ Vei’s tail lashed in annoyance. She didn’t really _need_ deliberately-left signs to track, but they were still supposed to leave one every now and then as a courtesy. Her elder brother had always been light on his feet, leaving very little trace of his passing, and if he had forgotten to leave even a few trail signs for her, it might take hours to find him in the Shroud.

_Or maybe not._ Her left ear twitched as she spotted a set of fresh scratches in the bark of a tree. It was a simple sign, and it told her that she was close. _Finally,_ she thought, rounding the tree and noticing a door in the rocky cliff face. The door was ajar, and Vei cocked her head. This was new. Not the door, of course. _That_ looked distinctly Gelmorran, if in somewhat better repair than she’d have expected. But she’d never been here before. This would be _interesting._

She opened the door warily and peered inside. The smell hit her immediately, that sickly-sweet stench of yarzon. Ears flat in panic, she took in her surroundings. The room within was mostly empty, with a few broken pieces of furniture scattered about, a sign of the battle that had only recently, judging by the three dead yarzon, taken place.

“Zhem?” she called softly, hoping her voice wouldn’t alert any living enemies.

A noise came from her left, and she spun, bow raised. Nothing but a door, slightly ajar. The sound must have come from the other side. She swallowed and nudged open the door, bow at the ready. There was a thump, and a muffled curse, and Vei’s ears perked. “Zhem?”

“Vei?” At the sound of her brother’s voice Vei heaved a sigh of relief. “Glad you found it.” More shuffling sounds, and then he stood, covered in dust. “Hey, get over here, you’re smaller than I am.”

Vei huffed, but did as he bade, her curiosity overcoming her irritation. “Yarzon, Zhem?” she asked as she joined him near a stack of barrels and crates.

Zhemi’a winced. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting them. There weren’t any left, were there?”

Vei shook her head, mollified. “No, you got them all.” She looked more closely at the room. Besides the crates and barrels, she could see sacks that might contain grain - old grain - and several opened, empty crates, the whole of it covered in a layer of dust. “What is this place?”

“Mun Tuy Cellars,” he replied. “They’ve been in disuse for awhile now, but they used to make wine here.” He pointed to a narrow gap between some of the crates. “I spotted a few bottles in there, but I can’t fit.”  
Vei wrinkled her nose. “Wine? What, are we going to drink it?”

Zhemi’a laughed. “That depends on what kind it is.” He raised an eyebrow and Vei sighed her agreement to his unspoken request.

The gap wasn’t too narrow, once she’d left her bow and quiver behind, and soon enough three dusty bottles sat on the floor between them. Zhemi’a examined them, and then nodded in satisfaction. “I think this is their special brew,” he announced happily.

“What’s so special about it?”

“I’ve heard that it was popular for cooking,” Zhemi’a said, carefully packing the bottles into his bag. 

“And?”

“_And,_” he said with a flourish, “it’s rare. Which means it’s valuable. We can sell it in the Bower next time we go to market.”

Vei’s eyes widened. Their family did well enough for themselves in the woods, but spending money was rare. She looked again at the bottles, mentally running through the things they might buy with the profits. She might even be able to commission a new bow to replace the one she was rapidly outgrowing.

“Think there’s more here?” she asked, trying - and failing - to sound casual. 

Her brother laughed. “Only one way to find out,” he said, an excited gleam in his eyes as he readied his own bow. 

Vei grinned. Today was shaping up to be fun after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reading into Gelmorra for this one, and once I found out about the Mun Tuy Cellars in 1.0, I was sold.


	5. Shifting Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alphinaud is definitely not afraid of falling overboard.
> 
> Takes place before the start of A Realm Reborn, on the trip to Eorzea from Sharlayan.

Alisaie rested her elbows on the ship’s starboard rail and stared at what would be her last view of her homeland for some time. The far southern tip of the island was rocky promontory, hundreds of feet high and boasting elegant buildings shaded in light gray and green. It had taken them days to reach it, and soon there would be nothing but open ocean surrounding them for nearly a week.

“A lovely last sight of home,” her brother said from behind her. 

Alisaie gave a small nod of agreement before turning away from the sight to find her brother standing well away from the rail. She would never admit - out loud, at least - the relief she’d felt when her brother had shared her intent to travel to Eorzea. Regardless of the distance that had been growing between them since Grandfather left, he would still be a familiar presence in a strange land.

But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t needle him, just a little. “‘Tis a better view from the railing,” she suggested.

“I can see it quite well from here, thank you.”

“Afraid of the water, brother?” Alisaie teased lightly.

Alphinaud crossed his arms and sniffed. “Of course not,” he lied. “But I’m not wearing footwear appropriate to walking on a deck slick with sea spray.”

“Oh, so you’re blaming the shoes, now?” Alisaie hopped lightly a few times, holding back a grin when he paled. “They seem perfectly serviceable to me,” she added with a final spin.

And that, of course, was her undoing. When her right foot came down, her left slipped, just a little, just an ilm. But it was enough. Alisaie bit back a sigh and glanced at her brother, who was watching her with a raised eyebrow. 

Alisaie did the only thing she could do in that situation: she ignored it. She lifted her chin. “Have it your way, then,” she said with a lofty air, giving her best Alphinaud impression, before turning away and resuming her watch.

A few moments later she heard soft, careful footfalls as her brother joined her. “It really feels like we’re properly on our way now, doesn’t it?” he asked, leaning against the rail.

“Mhm,” Alisaie murmured with a smile, and the two stood in companionable silence as the headland receded into the distance. Home was behind them, now. Eorzea - and answers - lay ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't get nearly enough wholesome content for the twins, so I wanted to write some!


	6. Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kyrean Reed finds a broom closet.
> 
> Kyrean has finally managed to achieve her dream: to join the Sons of Saint Coinach and study ancient Allag. This takes place between A Realm Reborn and Heavensward, after the Coils and before the Crystal Tower.

The sun beat down on the sands of the Sagolii Desert as Kyrean exited her tent and made her way to the opposite end of Byregot’s Strike. The ruin was from a much earlier period of Allag’s history, before the empire had moved on from intricately carved stonework to metal walls, floors, and seemingly everything else. But even with the sun reflecting off the ruins in a near-blinding display, Kyrean thought she much preferred this look to the oppressive design of the Ragnarok-class ships that made up the Coils.

She passed the massive drill waiting for the Sons of Saint Coinach to give up finding a less destructive way further into the Allagan ruin. A look of distaste crossed her face as she passed it by; hopefully, she could find something today to make the drill unnecessary.

There wasn’t much to the ruins, yet. Only a small part of what they suspected to be a much larger structure had been revealed by the Calamity. But the previous evening they had managed to unblock another small section of the ruins, and while the rest of the Sons of Saint Coinach were busy with the larger of the two chambers, Kyrean made her way to the smaller one.

Once there Kyrean lifted her lantern, casting light to the edges of the room, and shivered. The walls were stone instead of metal, but the grooves carved into the pale stone were hauntingly similar to those in the Coils. At least the air was cooler down here, below the baking desert sands above.

It looked like a dead end, but Kyrean wasn’t convinced. Allag hadn’t been in the habit of wasting space; everything in the Coils had had a purpose. Even the walls had been part of the computing systems. And if the very walls and floors of the Coils could be designed to channel aether in specific patterns, then perhaps the same principle was at play here.

She shuttered the lantern and waited for her eyes to adjust. As she did, the glow from the small aether crystals set into the wall became more apparent, and Kyrean studied them, looking for a pattern.

There. A spot of darkness where her instinct was telling her a light _should_ be. She unshuttered the lantern again, revealing a small, empty indentation that looked sized and shaped for a smaller version of the aether crystals set into the walls.

Kyrean frowned. Whether the missing crystal was supposed to act as a key or as just a way to connect the two grooves stretching from the indentation outward in opposite directions, the crystal certainly wasn’t here _now_. Whatever secrets it unlocked might well remain lost.

_Then again..._ She rested her palm over the spot and hesitated a moment before channeling aether straight into the stone. It took more than she expected, but soon aether began funneling into the lines etched into the stone. Bit by bit, the pattern filled, limning the walls with a delicate blue tracery until, just when Kyrean was starting to feel the strain of channeling so much aether, it pulsed once, complete.

And, with a rumble and scrape of stone, a door opened.

The room within was small, just a storage closet, really, but to Kyrean it was the equal of any treasure vault. 

Several defunct nodes sat on small, ring-shaped stands, and a few other pieces of entirely unfamiliar equipment occupied the other shelves. And, best of all… tomestones. A handful of them, but that was enough. 

“I wonder what secrets you hold,” she murmured, lifting a tomestone out of the box. Given the other objects in the room, maybe she’d luck out and find a maintenance manual for the nodes. Or, even better, a blueprint for the ruin so they could avoid destroying anything valuable if they had to resort to the drill. 

She’d gotten about halfway through cataloguing the contents of the storage room when the sound of rapidly-approaching footsteps caught her attention. Peeking her head out of the closet revealed Koh Rabntah rushing into the chamber, looking around frantically. 

Kyrean put her notes down, worried. Last she’d seen her, Koh had been in Mor Dhona, working on gaining entrance the Crystal Tower. Of course, at the moment that involved tunneling through the surrounding crystalized aether blocking the approach. If she was here instead of there, then maybe….

Kyrean had just opened her mouth to speak when Koh noticed her and waved. “Ky, come on! We need you in Mor Dhona!”

Kyrean’s breath caught. “Does that mean…?”

“It does!” Koh grinned. “We finally opened a path to the Crystal Tower!”


	7. First Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vei makes a big change.
> 
> Takes place before the beginning of A Realm Reborn.

Vei stood outside the Carline Canopy , absently fiddling with the buckle on her quiver. She’d been like that for nearly half a bell, just staring as people made their way in and out of the inn. It seemed like every third person was an adventurer, walking with the tired air of returning from a job or the determined look of someone about to visit the leve counter.

And Vei was going to be one of them. Just as soon as she convinced her feet to move. 

She huffed. Why was this so hard? She’d faced - and defeated - plenty of monsters in the Black Shroud, even before the Calamity stirred everything up. She’d faced the possibility of her parents’ disapproval when she’d told them she wanted to be an adventurer - they’d been surprisingly supportive - and she’d made the trek, on foot and by cart, to Gridania itself. So why couldn’t she make her feet move?

It wasn’t that she was afraid of the work. She’d seen a few eager adventurers slaying ladybugs outside of the gate when she’d arrived, presumably on contract. Not the sort of heroic job she hoped for, one day, but even something like that would be a _start_.

_Just go in and take a leve_, she told herself._ It can’t be worse than clearing out that yarzon nest last year. And this time, you’d get paid. _Vei sighed. That was it, wasn’t it? She’d been hunting for her small clan since before the Calamity; to leave them for something as mundane as _gil_ seemed selfish. But it would be _so nice_ to have some on hand for once….

“Am I going to have to carry you in there?”

Vei jumped, barely stifling a shriek as her brother’s voice came from just over her shoulder. She spun, aiming a punch to his shoulder, which he dodged with a laugh. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Figured you might need a little push,” Zhemi’a said with a shrug. “Looks like I was right.”

Vei wrinkled her nose. “I was just about to-”

“Stand here for another half a bell fretting?” Zhemi’a finished for her. He grinned at her pout. “You want to be a big damn hero, right?” Vei nodded. “Keep the Twelveswood safe?” Another nod. “Make some gil?” Vei looked away. “Ohhh, I get it.” He moved back into her line of vision. “You’re feeling selfish.”

Vei shrugged. “Maybe,” she murmured.

“Don’t,” Zhemi’a said. “There’s bigger things that need doing than hunting for our family. And you,” he said with a nod, “are going to do them. We’re all pulling for you, you know.”

Vei’s ears perked. “Really?”

“Really,” he promised. “Mother and father keep bragging about how their daughter is going to make a name for herself out in the world. It’s driving our uncle crazy.” Vei laughed, and he grinned. “But you know,” he began, “I suppose I might be curious about this whole adventuring thing myself. Want some company on your first job?”

Vei’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that.”

“Well then,” he said, bowing and gesturing towards the Carline Canopy with a sweeping gesture. “After you.”


	8. Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Shadowbringers spoilers, and some spoilers for everything previous.
> 
> In which the Warrior of Light/Darkness makes the only choice they can.
> 
> Takes place after Vauthry’s defeat, but before the Crystal Exarch arrives.

The Light floods in, drowning out the pain. No. _Soothing_ the pain. It only hurts when I resist, when I fight, reflexively trying to hold back the tide.

But this tide isn’t an external enemy, not anymore. The Light has seeped in, threatening to fill every inch of my being. And it _sings_, a bone-deep hum that can’t be ignored. 

_How can you bear it,_ the Light whispers. _The things you’ve destroyed? The people you’ve killed? How can you bear the Guilt?_

I can feel it when my soul begins to break, Light pushing out from within, bringing with it memories that ride the flood, visible through the cracks in my soul. 

The singing doesn’t stop.

[Don’t listen to it.]

_You would have killed Thancred, to get to Lahabrea. _[Thancred smiles, wan but healing. “You made the right choice.”] _Louisoix, their _grandfather_, fell by your hand. _[The twins still look at me with smiles on their faces and friendship in their eyes.] _Haurchefant. _[A father reaches past his own grief to name me family.] 

It was tempting to give in, let go, find perfect absolution in nothingness

[And yet….]

_Ysayle died for your quest. _[On her own terms.] _You murdered the head of the Ishgardian church. Threw their society into chaos. _[I defeated a primal. His lies were his own choice.] _Papalymo died while you ran. _[Papalymo wanted us to live. I honored his wish.] _You became khan of a people to send them to a war that was not theirs. _[I put the Mol in power. _They_ granted our request.] _Tsuyu might have found her own redemption in time, if you hadn’t killed her. _[I gave her the best chance I could.]

_You reject salvation,_ the Light sang, notes turned harsh and sour. _Why?_

I have to. I am still needed. I will bear those burdens until the day I die. And _I will not die today._

I open my eyes.

I have too much left to do.


	9. Hesitate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alisaie could actually get to like this whole fencing thing.
> 
> Takes place while the twins are attending the Studium, age thirteen or thereabouts.

The room echoed with the snap and clang of practice, occasionally punctuated by the clatter of a weapon hitting the ground, usually when a novice was disarmed. Alisaie’s practice rapier hadn’t yet joined them, but it was only a matter of time. 

_More time than it usually takes,_ Alisaie thought with some pride. She’d first elected to take up the sword as more of a change of pace than anything; the Studium’s curriculum wasn’t overwhelming, but it _was_ rigorous, and she’d craved something that didn’t involve _more_ hours studying in the library. Fencing had seemed ideal.

Now, she was surprised to find that she might actually be _good_ at it.

She pushed those thoughts out of her mind to focus on the task at hand. Her instructor came at her with a quick one, two, three that she barely managed to defend against. She held her ground, however, and that’s when she saw the opening. It was brief, but she didn’t take time to question her good fortune; she struck, quick and precise, and almost dropped her own sword when the hit actually _landed_. 

She’d tagged him. She’d _never_ tagged him before.

“Good,” he said, lowering his weapon. “You didn’t hesitate this time.”

Alisaie stood up straighter at the praise. “Thank you, sir.” She knew she had a habit of overthinking when she sparred with anyone above her level, and had been working hard to unlearn it. This was definitely a sign of progress on that front.

Her instructor nodded, and lifted his rapier. “Again,” he said simply.

Alisaie mirrored his stance in mute reply. She was _definitely_ starting to enjoy this.


	10. Foster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greleita takes a break.
> 
> Takes place not long after Admiral Merlwyb outlawed piracy. Greleita is about fourteen years old.

Greleita scampered up the rigging, making for the crow’s nest with all of the agility and speed her gangly limbs could muster. Once there she settled in, ignoring the amused glance the lookout gave her as he made room for her to lean against the rail and take in the view. Everyone spent their breaks in their own way, and for Greleita, it was at her usual post, reveling in the freedom to watch whatever she wanted, rather than keep a sharp eye on the sea.

Not that the sea wasn’t beautiful, a glittering canvas stretching from horizon to horizon, but she already watched the sea _all day_. And so she gave the sea a quick glance before casting her eyes down to the deck of the ship.

A flurry of activity greeted her, as her (rather large) foster family went about their duties. There was their master gunner, Zirnwyda, cleaning the cannon. Later she would check on the store of gunpowder and, if she was in a good mood, she’d regale Greleita with tales - some of which might even be true - of the mighty sea beasts she’d repelled with cannonfire. Bosun Beaudeaux - who had taken over her father’s position when he retired due to injury - was retying every loose knot he could find, determined that no injuries could result from any negligence on his part. Hallodor was swabbing the deck, a punishment for drinking while on lookout the previous evening, while Memeru reclined on a coil of rope nearby, eating lunch and teasing her friend. The Captain was below, probably discussing their course with the navigator - they hadn’t yet found their quarry, and the crew was starting to get antsy.

An odd family, Greleita, supposed, kicking her feet. But it was hers all the same.


	11. Snuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kyrean opens the mail.
> 
> Takes place immediately before the beginning of A Realm Reborn.

It was finally here. 

The package itself was unassuming, for the most part - a large, sturdy envelope, nearly an ilm thick, sealed with green wax stamped with the shape of a nautilus. It had come all the way from distant Sharlayan, and it contained the most recent folio of published academic articles. Kyrean’s shelves bore several like it, going back several years.

But this one was special.

Kyrean curled up in her overstuffed armchair and carefully broke the seal before sliding the folio out of its protective envelope. Candlelight flickered across the page, picking out the titles of the articles contained within. When Kyrean’s eyes found what she was looking for, she couldn’t contain her grin.

_The Fruit and the Flame: An analysis of Belah’dian symbology and its impact on historical Nald’Thal worship in Thanalan._

_By Kyrean Reed._

Her first published work. Not the ancient civilization she longed to study, but it would do. With another published paper or two under her belt combined with her personal expertise, she would have the academic clout to apply for a spot in the Sons of Saint Coinach, and from there…

_One step at a time,_ she thought, setting the folio down next to the others. She stood and snuffed out the candle, leaving only moonlight to guide her to bed. She would read the other articles later. But the hour was late, and she had an early start waiting for her in the morning. _First we pay the bills, and _then _we find more ruins to study_. 


	12. Wax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, contrary to all expectations, the Red Moon does not actually hit Eorzea. 
> 
> Set during the Battle of Carteneau.

The Red Moon was coming down.

It had dominated the sky day and night for weeks; there was no wax or wane to its baleful glow. And now, as the setting sun bathed the sky a ruddy orange, the crimson light of Dalamud seemed to overtake everything. Pieces of Dalamud were already falling, streaking across the sky like comets, though the moon itself remained whole.

Even now, on the eve of calamity, there were those who didn’t believe it would land. Plans were in place, surely, they said, adventurers and leaders and archons working to halt the fall of Dalamud and put it back in its place in the sky.

As she watched the Red Moon fall ever closer, Kyrean wasn’t so certain.

She’d wanted to be out there, fighting with her uncle Evan at Carteneau. But her parents had said that thirteen was too young, that her magic was only half-trained. Kyrean had seen the worry in their eyes, and heard the unspoken fear that she wouldn’t come home. And so she had acquiesced, even when some of her friends had snuck off to join the war. 

Now, she sat with her parents and her grandmother on the rooftop of one of Ul’dah’s taller buildings. There was really nowhere else to go; it was far too late to leave Eorzea entirely, and if the world was going to end tonight, then they may as well watch.

They weren’t the only ones, either. Nearly every rooftop in Ul’dah was occupied, by the looks of it. Some were even making a celebration of it, throwing impromptu parties complete with food, alcohol, and music. Kyrean didn’t see the point, but her grandmother had laughed and insisted it was better for there to be dancing on the rooftops than riots in the streets.

For her own part, Kyrean had too much on her mind to dance. Her uncle was at Carteneau, and while the prospect of her own impending death didn’t feel quite real to her, she knew that if the Red Moon fell, the devastation would be massive. Her grandmother’s trade between Eorzea, Ishgard, and Sharlayan would be interrupted if not ended, and her own acceptance to the Studium would be moot if she couldn’t make the trip to Sharlayan to attend. Everything was uncertain, and she didn’t like it at all.

It began with a flare of light as Dalamud expelled the glowing blue needles of light - Ragnarok-class ships, her father had told her - from its face. They shot out at impossible speeds, and even from Ul’dah they could see the great clouds of earth thrown up when they landed. One passed overhead, perilously close, and the watching crowd screamed in unison. 

The next few moments would be seared into Kyrean’s memory for the rest of her life. Brilliant red lines appeared across the face of Dalamud, marring its sullen glow before pulsing, once.

The Red Moon shattered.

The sharp crack that reached them moments after the break was almost an afterthought; they were too busy staring at the dragon that had emerged from within. It roared, a sound that shouldn’t have made it as far as Ul’dah, but was deafening all the same.

Suddenly, the roof didn’t seem like the safest place to be.

The streets below erupted in panic, as the riots Kyrean’s grandmother had hoped wouldn’t happen began. And the sky above…. Flame, and smoke, and the flashing glow of aether.

“Where is it?” Her mother’s question was barely audible over the panicked crowds.

As if in answer, a massive shape soared overhead, fast enough to leave behind only the suggestion of wings and impossible size. It was followed by streaks of magic, slamming into the landscape in its wake. Kyrean clapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, and this time, she screamed along with everyone else.

After several moments - she never figure out how long - had passed, she opened her eyes, somewhat surprised to still be alive. But the dragon, it would seem, had returned to the battlefield. The clouds lit up with a blue aetheric glow that was soon joined by others, pillars of light across the land. The aether coalesced, and for a moment another moon hung in Dalamud place, shining brilliant in the night. Kyrean felt the smallest spark of hope light in her chest. There _had_ been a plan!

Then it shattered, and Kyrean’s hopes shattered along with it. The sky above Carteneau brightened, massing hellfire visible through the smoke.

Kyrean’s vision went white.

When she could see again, empty skies greeted her. The dragon, the gathering aether, it was all just… gone. Kyrean blinked, confused. “What happened?” she asked in a small voice.

It would be years before she found out the answer to that question. 


End file.
